“I am.”

“I’m not.”

“Probably because you need to get out of those clothes.” The instant the last word was out, she swallowed hard. Wrong thing to say, very wrong thing to think about. Joe out of his clothes would be too tempting, and she was already feeling weak.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” he said, but he didn’t move toward the door.

“I hope you don’t mind me inviting myself over, but I thought I’d repay you for the cherry limeade last night. I ordered two medium pizzas to be delivered in-” Rocking forward, she slid her fingers around his left hand and lifted it so she could see the face of his watch.

His skin was warm, not as soft as her own but not particularly callused either. His fingers tensed for just a moment, then went lax in her grip, and his pulse throbbed just the slightest bit harder. There was a small scar on the back of his hand, right where the blood vein was most prominent, reminding her of the time in the hospital when an IV had been taped there. When he’d looked so pale, so vulnerable and still so damn handsome.

“Delivered when?” His voice was husky, sliding over her skin, bringing back the sharp edginess that had plagued her earlier.

It took a few heartbeats to remember her reason for taking his hand. “Twenty minutes.” Hers was husky, too. Edgy.

“What kind?”

“One vegetarian, one supreme.”

“My favorite. But I should change first.” He was waiting for her to release him, she realized belatedly when he tugged free. Taking a step back, he pulled his keys from his pocket, propped the screen with one foot and unlocked the door. Before opening it, he asked, “Do you want to come in?”

More than she wanted to admit even to herself-and less, too, because Mika had told her to get a look inside. She forced a breath and let the chair rock back with a squeak. “You just want me to deflect the puppies’ attention from you.”

His grin started out a bit shaky, but reached full-force as he twisted the doorknob. “You can’t blame me for trying.”

He opened the door just enough to squeeze through and the dogs’ yips increased in volume, making it difficult to separate his words from the din. “Hey, Bear. Hey, Elizabeth. What did you guys destroy today?”

With a sigh, she settled back in the chair as a sound from the right broke the gentle patter of the rain. When she turned, her gaze connected with Natalia, standing motionless on her porch. The younger woman’s expression was utterly blank. If she was jealous or resentful or feeling a little hostile, she hid it well.

She pivoted as if to return inside, prompting Liz to speak. “Hey, we’re having pizza. Want to join us?” There was nothing like a third person to keep things from getting too intimate, a lesson she and Joe had learned once before. She should have thought of it sooner.

“No, thanks. I don’t like pizza.”

“Really. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like pizza.”

Natalia offered no response, not even a shrug.

“You could bring your own food, or we could add pasta or a sandwich to the order. I’ve heard everything from Luigi’s is wonderful.”

“No, thanks.” Natalia’s gaze flickered to the bicycle. “Is Joe inside?”

“Yes. He’s changing clothes.” Liz’s stomach clenched, and her temperature spiked.

“Tell him I’ll replace his pillow. Have fun.”

Before she disappeared, Liz spoke again quickly. “Natalia, seriously-”

“Have fun. Seriously.”

And for the first time Liz had seen that didn’t involve the puppies, Natalia smiled.

They ate on the porch, the two rockers facing each other with a small table in between to hold the pizza boxes and iced tea. Breaking the last bit of crust into two pieces, Joe tossed one to each dog before he closed the empty boxes and set one on top of the other.

“I love pizza,” Liz said with a satisfied sigh.

“It’s in your blood, huh?” When she glanced at him, brows raised, he lifted one shoulder. “Josh said you were half Italian.”

“On my mother’s side. I always thought it would be fun to eat my way through Italy.”

“Do you cook Italian food?”

Her smile was faint in the growing darkness. “Does macaroni from a box count?”

“No.”

“I don’t cook.” Before he could respond, she raised one finger to make her point. It was slender, the nail curved gently and polished the same shade as her toes. “I can. I just don’t.”

“I can and I do. Mostly Cuban.”

She tilted her head to one side to study him. Did she have a clue how incredibly relaxed and beautiful and sexy she looked? He doubted it. That was okay, though, because he damn well knew.

“Blond hair and blue eyes. You don’t fit my stereotyped image of a Cuban.”

“My father’s not Latino, but his adoptive parents were.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Bear came around to sniff the napkin resting on Joe’s leg. He pushed the dog away, then crumpled the napkin into a ball. “Why should you? Josh was never big on heritage or family or much of anything besides himself.”

“And yet people love him.”

All sense of ease fled as Joe’s muscles tightened. Half surprised he could unclench his jaw to speak, he asked sharply, “Do you?”

She drew her gaze to him, her dark eyes rounded. “Love Josh?”

“You were with him a long time.” His tone was accusing, but he couldn’t soften it. “You must have felt something…I don’t know…serious? Significant?”

He would bet his next shipment of Salvadoran strictly high-grown Arabica that she wouldn’t have answered at all if she could have avoided it. As it was, her answer was a non-answer. “It was…complicated.”

His laughter was short and sharp. “With Josh, everything is complicated.”

Her own laugh was rueful. “You’re not too simple yourself.”

“Of course I am. What you see is what you get.”

She looked as if the idea of “getting” might tempt her. It had better. If he were the only one wanting things, the only one who’d damn near burst into flames at the simple touch of her fingers around his hand, life truly wasn’t fair.

Elizabeth shot to the edge of the porch, nose quivering, and Bear joined her with a shuffle, staring into the deepening shadows with the same intensity. Liz watched them, smiling faintly. “Are you missing a pillow?”

“Yeah. From my bed. The best one I ever had. I figure Elizabeth is responsible. She has this defiant screw-you look when she does something wrong. She probably smelled me on it and that’s why she shredded it.”

“Natalia said she would replace it.”

“Nah. I’ll ask Mom where she bought it-” Abruptly he broke off. He wouldn’t get comfortable enough with Liz to talk about his parents. Not when he couldn’t trust her.

But she didn’t pounce on his slip, try to get more information out of him or even look at him. She continued to watch the dogs as they stared out a moment longer, then, with Elizabeth in the lead, returned to their places against the wall and curled up. After a long time, she said, “I’m not in love with him.”

Relief seeped through him, his muscles easing from tension that had become so familiar he only noticed it when it was gone. He would tell himself it didn’t matter whether she loved Josh, but unlike his brother, he wasn’t in the habit of lying. It did matter.

For whatever it was worth.

“Then why are you looking for him?” He was surprised at how even his voice was, as if he didn’t give a damn about the subject.

“I’ve told you.”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s got something you want. What?”

“Charm to spare?”

He scowled at her, even though she still wasn’t looking at him. She must have sensed it, though, because she did meet his gaze at last. “I’ll make you a deal, Joe. I’ll tell you why I’m looking for Josh right after you tell me where your parents are.”

He scooted his chair away from the table so he could stretch out his legs. “Ain’t ever happenin’, darlin’.”